


The Time of Your Life

by ellebeedarling



Series: Something Worthwhile [1]
Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: A little angst, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mostly Smut, more angst than I wanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 20:23:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10543794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellebeedarling/pseuds/ellebeedarling
Summary: It's a monumental night for both John Shepard and Scott Ryder. One is going to jail in the morning, the other to a whole new galaxy, and they both decide to spend their last night drowning their anxieties in booze. After meeting in a seedy bar, they decide there may be more pleasurable ways to pass the time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was just supposed to be smut, but evidently I don't know how to write smut without angst or emotion in some form. *sigh* I still think the story turned out lovely, and hope you all enjoy! :) It's completely unrelated to any of my other stories (so far!) ;)
> 
> Title is from the song Good Riddance by Green Day.

He did a double take, then blinked and looked a third time, afraid that his eyes or the booze were deceiving him. But no. They weren't. That was definitely Commander Shepard – _The_ Commander Shepard – sitting in some crappy dive on the Citadel, sipping a glass of something fluorescent green and pungent. Ryder remembered watching the news vids the day they'd made him a Spectre three years prior. He'd just finished Basic, himself, and was in awe of the man who seemed capable of moving mountains. A little hero worship now and again was a positive thing, right? Okay, if he were being perfectly honest with himself, he'd admit that it was more than the man's professional capabilities that enthralled him. The guy was drop dead gorgeous with rock star status everywhere he went. Who wouldn't be in awe of the man, or even a little in love?

 

When Shepard huffed – a sound that couldn't quite be called a laugh – and rolled his eyes, Ryder realized he'd been staring. “Take a picture, kid,” Shepard said. “It'll last longer.”

 

Shepard went back to nursing the drink in front of him, so Ryder did the same. Then the younger man's mouth, or the booze, ran away from him, and he leaned back on his stool, attempting casual, and feeling pretty confident that he'd achieved it, and said, “I'd rather take a memory.”

 

The Commander's eyebrow quirked up, and Ryder couldn't tell if he was annoyed or intrigued. He'd made it this far though, and the man hadn't tried to kill him yet. Though he was pretty sure he was one biotic blast away from missing the boat to Andromeda tomorrow. “Is that so?” Shepard finally asked, mirroring Ryder's posture but somehow making it look cooler.

 

Ryder shrugged. What did he have to lose? He was leaving tomorrow on a six hundred year journey. Having said goodbye to all his friends the night before, he'd decided to spend his last night in the Milky Way indulging in a luxury that would take a back seat to more pressing concerns – like survival – once they'd reached Andromeda. Not that the ships wouldn't be loaded with booze. Ryder had even packed a couple bottles of his favorite away in his limited storage container. What did it say about him as a person that booze took enough priority in his life to make him want to carry it to a whole other galaxy? Besides getting pretty shitfaced, he'd be lying if he said he hadn't hoped to find someone to share his last night in the Milky Way with. That it could possibly be Commander Shepard had never even crossed his mind. That Shepard still hadn't blasted him across the room yet was somewhat of a miracle.

 

“And what kind of memory would that be?” Shepard's blue eyes shifted from their normal icy coolness to a darker shade that spelled out heat and desire as he sized up the younger man, giving him a blatant once over. Ryder swallowed around the lump in his throat, cursing himself internally when Shepard laughed. The Commander turned to his drink again, downing it in one go, then paid his tab and headed for the door. Ryder's heart sank, but he really wasn't surprised. For all he knew Shepard wasn't even into guys, but then the Commander stopped by his stool, and murmured, “I'm staying across the street tonight. Room three thirteen.”

 

Then Shepard was gone, having taken all the oxygen in the room with him, and Ryder gripped the edge of the counter till his knuckles turned white. Did that really just happen? He pinched the inside of his thigh. Nope. Not dreaming. Then he scowled at the glass of whiskey in front of him on the counter. Damned booze! How was he supposed to know if Shepard's offer was real or just some figment of his inebriated mind? The bartender gave him a knowing smirk. “He won't wait forever, tough guy,” the man said.

 

That was enough to jolt Ryder into action. He downed his own drink and quickly paid his tab before following Shepard. He wasn't going to run. That was for damn sure. Never mind that the growing tightness in his pants would have made the act nearly impossible. And thinking of his erection made it worse – to the point that he was almost limping as he entered the hotel lobby. Feeling certain that every eye in the building was on him and that every guest and employee knew the exact reason he'd stepped through the door tonight, he kept his eyes fixed on the floor in front of him and breathed a sigh of relief once he was alone in the elevator.

 

He fidgeted around on the ride up to the third floor, somewhat surprised that Shepard hadn't chosen, or been offered, one of the fancier rooms on the higher levels. Hell, maybe the hotel had offered and Shepard had declined. Who knew?

 

His heart stopped beating when the doors sighed open, and it took considerable effort to keep his feet moving forward, toward Shepard's room, instead of retreating to the safety of his own room for the night. One chance was all he had. Was all he'd ever have. Drawing a steadying breath, he sounded the chime on Shepard's door, then stepped through when it hissed open on its own. The Commander was sitting on the foot of the bed when Ryder came in, but he rose smoothly and crossed the floor to meet the man halfway. “So, you obviously know who I am,” Shepard said, close enough for Ryder to smell the alcohol on his breath. “Want to tell me who you are?”

 

“Ryder,” he was proud that he'd managed to keep his voice even and strong. “Scott Ryder.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Scott Ryder,” Shepard said with a toothy grin.

 

“Y-you, too.” He cursed himself again. He supposed Shepard probably made everyone feel this way.

 

“Relax, Scott. I don't bite... Unless you want me to, that is.”

 

Ryder shivered in spite of himself, erection picking up some of the steam it had lost during his nervous, fitful elevator ride. Before he had a chance to respond, Shepard's lips were on his, demanding and insistent. “This what you wanted?” the Commander muttered just before his tongue delved into the younger man's mouth. Ryder moaned into the kiss, reciprocating greedily. They stayed that way for what felt an eternity, both starved for human contact and drowning in the heady tension building between them. Fingers wandered aimlessly, seeking out glimpses of skin here and there. Shepard was the one to finally pull away, sucking in gulps of air, and Ryder's eyes honed in on the man's kiss-swollen lips. The Commander chuckled when the younger man attacked those lips once more, then turned him around and eased him toward the bed.

 

Belts and shirts and pants landed haphazardly around the room as their hands raced to expose as much naked body as they could. Ryder paused to take in the sight of the man. His body was perfect – smooth, bronze skin covering deep, defined muscle and latticed with a network of scars. Obvious bullet and knife wounds along with less identifiable markings that wove a story across his body – the story of hardship and struggle, the story of a warrior. Shepard sighed as Ryder smoothed his hands over the broad expanse of his chest, and the younger man relished the way his eyes drifted closed and his head relaxed upon his shoulders.

 

Down his hands wandered until his fingertips hit the waistband of Shepard's briefs. The Commander's head snapped up then, eyes hawk-like and alert but dark with a ravenous hunger. The man's grin was positively wolfish, and Ryder swallowed audibly again, drawing yet another dark laugh from the older man. Maybe he'd stop embarrassing himself before the night was through. There was a challenge in Shepard's ice blue eyes, and Ryder puffed out his chest, his own pale blue eyes accepting the bait. In an instant, he spun the Commander around and shoved him onto the bed, pinning him down with his weight.

 

He knew enough of Shepard and of N7's in general to know that the Commander could have resisted him if he'd wanted to. The fact that Scott was now lying on top of the man, holding his hands to the mattress on either side of his head, was telling of just how much Shepard wanted to be in the position he was currently in. Ryder's whole body shuddered with anticipation, and he brought their mouths together roughly. This kiss was all teeth and tongue and would leave bruises for his sister to tease him about come morning, but he couldn't be bothered to care at the moment. He was about to fuck Commander Shepard – or be fucked by him. Either way, his sister was not who he wanted to be thinking about right now.

 

Forcing the thought away, he slid down Shepard's body leaving a wet trail of kisses and licks to cool in the air. When he reached the Commander's bulging erection, he wasted no time in divesting the man of his briefs and enjoying the sight of his dick springing free and the sound of his relieved sigh. Ryder's lips were on the tip of Shepard's cock, and he waited for the Commander to make eye contact with him before darting his tongue out to taste him. Shepard groaned and raised himself up on his elbows for a better view. Scott worked him painstakingly slow, outlining every ridge and vein on Shepard's impressively large cock before easing it into the sweltering heat of his mouth. Shepard's own mouth hung open, eyes dark and hooded as he watched himself disappear into the younger man. Eventually, he raised a hand to comb his fingers through Scott's hair, and the gentleness of his touch was a little surprising. Ryder didn't get a chance to read anything into it though, because the next moment Shepard was gripping his hair tightly and pulling him off.

 

“Not how I want it to end,” the Commander informed him with another of his devious grins. Scott crawled back up the bed with a grin of his own, claiming the older man's mouth once more. There was a flash of blue and the crackle of biotics, and Ryder found himself on his back with Shepard above him. A startled gasp escaped his throat, and Shepard laughed again. “My turn,” he said, kissing his way down Scott's body. Turns out the Commander was a biter after all, but Ryder couldn't find the will to complain as the man left little nips and sucked little bruises all over his torso. He was writhing by the time Shepard reached his leaking erection, and the Commander wasted no time in lapping at the pre-cum dripping from the head. His growl of appreciation almost made Scott cum right then and there, but he managed to find the strength of will to hold off at least until Shepard actually started sucking his dick.

 

“Sh-Shepard,” he moaned, sinking into the mattress as his cock slid into the Commander's mouth.

 

Shepard released him with a “pop” and gazed up at him. “It's John.”

 

“John,” he breathed in agreement as the Commander's lips enveloped him again. He probably would have agreed to anything Shepard had asked of him at this point. With a finger, John captured some of the saliva trickling down Scott's balls and used it to begin massaging the younger man's entrance.

 

“Tell me what you want, Scott Ryder,” he paused to ask, continuing to rub against his hole. While he waited for Ryder to answer, he slowly licked the younger man's balls, pulling them one by one into his mouth and suckling gently. Ryder's mind was blank – whited out in ecstasy – so that he couldn't come up with any response other than a deep, gurgling groan. “Want me to fuck you?” Shepard asked casually as though they were talking about the weather or bioti-ball stats.

 

“Uh-huh,” Ryder finally managed.

 

“Or,” Shepard went on, pretending not to hear, “do you want to fuck me?” The Commander loomed above him, lips still glistening with saliva, finger still working against him, and Scott shuddered and moaned again. Shepard leaned down, lips to the man's ear, “Want to know what it'd feel like to be inside me? To have me under you? Want your cock in my ass? Hm? It's a pretty spectacular cock, by the way. I can't say I'd mind feeling it myself.”

 

“Oh, fuck,” Scott breathed. “Y-yeah... yes... that's what I... let me fuck you, Shepard.”

 

“Call me, John,” the older man cooed, lips ghosting over the stubbled skin on Ryder's neck. “Everybody calls me Shepard. Let me just be John, tonight.”

 

“Yes, okay, John... whatever you want.”

 

“I want you to fuck me, Scott,” Shepard said against his ear, he rolled his hips forward, grinding their dicks together, and Scott moaned again, wanton and desperate, and more than a little embarrassing. Since he'd entered this room, he hadn't been able to stop vocally expressing his pleasure. Shepard, on the other hand, only made noise to see Scott further crumble, it seemed. The Commander's hand was still between them, fingers teasing Ryder's entrance, and he was rutting their hips together in a steady rhythm.

 

“God, I'm going to cum if you keep that up,” Scott stuttered out.

 

Shepard chuckled, tugging the man's lower lip between his teeth. “Can't have that,” he soothed. “I want you inside me when that happens.” He kissed Ryder again – the most sensual kiss Scott had ever experienced in his life. Though Shepard had stopped touching him, his dick was aching and throbbing with rising pressure. Shepard shifted off him, and Scott lay there in a daze, willing the stubborn bastard between his legs to cooperate and his breathing to even out at least a little bit. The Commander turned the younger man to face him with a finger on his jaw. “We can go the other way if you'd rather.”

 

“No,” he said, a little too quickly. “No, it's fine... just... need a minute to catch my breath.”

 

He was rewarded with another smile from the older man. Shepard traced the outline of the younger man's jaw with a fingertip, letting his hand travel down until his palm was smoothing over Ryder's chest. He fingered the dog tags that hung from the man's neck. “Alliance, huh?”

 

“I noticed you're not wearing yours.”

 

“Don't have them anymore,” Shepard said as a shadow passed over his face. Ryder knit his brows in confusion, but didn't ask the obvious question. Instead, he leaned into another kiss, rolling Shepard onto his back. The Commander produced a tube of slick out of nowhere, and Scott squirted some onto his fingers then set to work preparing Shepard's body for him. The older man groaned as Scott's fingers moved inside him, and he ground down against the intrusion, seeking more. “Good enough,” the Commander informed him after he'd added a second finger.

 

“You sure?”

 

“Would you just fuck me already?” he snapped. “Jesus!”   
  


“Sorry,” Ryder murmured, feeling a little self conscious now.

 

“Hey... I'm sorry,” Shepard said, seeing the way the man's expression had clouded. He traced Scott's lips with his thumb. “Sorry,” he repeated, coaxing him into another kiss. Ryder groaned as Shepard's fist encircled his cock, stroking lightly as he drew him back into the moment. “Let me turn over.”

 

Scott sat back on his haunches while Shepard rolled over and positioned a pillow under his hips. He glanced over his shoulder at the younger man, and the lusty look in his eyes made Ryder shiver. That look was all the invitation he needed, and he positioned himself against Shepard's opening, leaning in to press soft kisses along top of the man's shoulder as he sank into him. He could say with all honesty that this was not how he imagined this night turning out, but damn if he could find any objections to it. Shepard was hot and tight and finally groaning out his own pleasure.

 

“Yes,” Shepard moaned as Ryder filled him then stilled waiting for the urge to cum to blow over before he dared to move again. “God, Scott, fuck me... please.”

 

“Holy, Jesus,” Scott whimpered, shifting his hips a fraction of an inch. Shepard moaned again, thrusting his ass up off the bed in demand, and the younger man cried out softly then rolled his hips forward into the man. He started slow, but picked up the pace as he felt Shepard loosen around him. The air was charged with electricity, as their biotics flared to life. He watched the side of Shepard's face. His blue eyes were closed, mouth agape, and a constant guttural noise issued from the back of his throat, interrupted only occasionally by a muttered curse.

 

Their bodies were bathed in blue light now, skin stinging almost painfully as sparks danced across it. The Commander shifted back until he was on his knees, momentarily throwing Ryder's rhythm off. “Harder,” Shepard breathed, reaching down to grip his own dick. Scott saw the man's arm moving in tempo with his thrusts, and obliged the Commander. “Goddamnit, yes.”

 

“J-John... I-”

 

“Not yet,” Shepard pleaded. “Keep going... just... don't fucking stop. God, it's been so long since anyone's fucked me like this. Please, just... keep going.”

 

“Fuck!” He wasn't sure he _could_ keep going. It seemed like he'd been fighting against an orgasm ever since he'd stepped through Shepard's door. “John, you're too... tight. Shit!”

 

The Commander laughed, hand moving rougher and faster along his own dick. “Dammit, Scott, I'm so fucking close, just... just-” He broke off with a shattered cry, muffling it into the pillow beneath his face. Ryder felt the Commander's body tense just before the tremors started, and he took that has his cue. Gripping Shepard's hips tighter, he gave a few fast, hard thrusts before losing all control and spilling himself inside of the older man with a growl.

 

He stayed seated inside the man, running soothing hands up and down the Commander's back as his breathing returned to normal. “Holy fuck,” he rasped.

 

“Mmm,” Shepard agreed, groaning when the younger man slid out of him. He turned and sat up, pulling Scott into another kiss. “That was pretty fucking amazing.”

 

“Yeah,” Ryder agreed, collapsing onto the bed.

 

Shepard chuckled the headed into the bathroom to clean himself up, returning with a warm washcloth for Scott. The younger man swiped at the mess, watching out of the corner of his eye as the Commander pulled on his pants. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of booze as he headed toward a balcony that Ryder had just noticed, motioning with his head for the younger man to follow. Scott found him already puffing away on a cigarette, and accepted the bottle as he took the chair next to the man. Shepard offered him a smoke, which he declined, and they sat in comfortable silence for awhile, the bottle passing back and forth between them.

 

“I'm not actually in the Alliance,” Scott said out of the blue. “Not anymore, anyway.”

 

“How's that? You haven't been in long enough to have served your time, yet, right?”

 

“Nope.” He sighed, took a pull from the bottle, then gave Shepard a sidelong glance. “My dad was an N7-” he started, but Shepard cut him off.

 

“Wait! Ryder? Alec Ryder is your dad?”

 

Scott rolled his eyes, “I see his reputation precedes him.”

 

The Commander shrugged. “I've heard of him. Never met him. Got the boot for developing AI tech?”

 

“Something like that.” He turned the bottle up again.

 

“Don't tell me they washed you out because of that bullshit?”

 

“'Fraid so.”

 

“Fucking Alliance!” Shepard shook his head and accepted the bottle as it was handed back to him. “So, what're you going to do now?”

 

“Well... funny story... I'm actually leaving in the morning. We, uh... you know, this sounded less crazy when I told it to people who actually knew me,” he said rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

 

“I don't know,” Shepard drawled, “I feel like I know you pretty well.”

 

Scott released a nervous laugh, then swigged at the bottle before spilling the rest of the story. “We're going to the Andromeda galaxy,” he blurted. “The Andromeda Initiative, it's called. Should take us somewhere around six hundred years to get there.”

 

“Holy shit!” Shepard stared out across the sprawling city in front of them, wishing that it actually got dark on the Citadel. “Now that you mention it, I think I remember my friend Liara saying something to me about this not long ago.”

 

“Pretty crazy, right?”

 

“Not at all.” Shepard's voice was low and rough. “A chance to start over, where no one knows your past or your mistakes; where everyone who's ever hurt you is long gone or so far away they could never hope to find you? Sounds pretty much like my idea of heaven right about now.”

 

Ryder watched him for long minutes, trying to get a read on what the man was thinking or feeling. All he saw was a furrowed brow and a steel determination in the set of the man's jaw. Whatever was eating at him he wasn't about to give it away in his expression alone. “Want to talk about it?” he asked after a time.

 

“Talking about it won't do any good,” Shepard said. “It is what it is.” He drew another cigarette from the box, sticking it between his lips and lighting it. Scott watched the smoke curl toward the artificial sky. He hoped the “golden worlds” panned out. It might be nice to have solid ground under his feet, and real sky overhead for once. When Shepard spoke again, Scott actually jumped, they'd been quiet for so long. “I'm going to jail tomorrow,” he said, then amended, “Well... house arrest.”

 

“What the hell for?” The younger man found himself a little offended on behalf of the Commander. Shepard had always been a hero in his eyes. Hell he not only remember the Spectre ceremony, he remembered the Star of Terra ceremony after Shepard had saved Elysium from terrorists. He and Sara had sat on the couch, bouncing with excitement, both of them whispering comments about how good looking the then Lieutenant Shepard was. Scott had been interested in men for as long as he could remember.

 

“I blew up a mass relay,” Shepard said nonchalantly, as if that were something people did every day. “Killed a bunch of batarians.”

 

“Whoa! I... was not expecting that.”

 

“I didn't do it for shits and giggles, Ryder,” Shepard told him, scowling and snubbing out the cigarette he'd been puffing on. He stood abruptly, and Scott stood with him, gripping the man's arm before he could get away.

 

“I never thought for a second that you did, John,” he said, trying to stay calm and keep his voice soothing. “It was just a surprise. I... can't imagine how you're feeling right now.”

 

“You don't even want to know why I did it?”

 

Scott shook his head. “I don't need to know why to know it was the right decision.”

 

“You don't know anything about me, kid,” Shepard snapped. “I-” He was brought up short by a pair of lips against his mouth, and Scott gripped the back of his neck, holding him firmly in place while he thoroughly explored John's mouth. The taste of his tongue was bitter and acrid from the cigarette smoke, but underneath was a layer of something sweet and uniquely Shepard. His heart was racing toward places his mind knew they couldn't hope to go, unless he could convince Shepard to join him on the Hyperion – unlikely. He wasn't ready to let go just yet, however, so he guided the Commander back inside, maneuvering him toward the bed.

 

They fell onto it, barely breaking the kiss long enough to gasp for air before diving back into one another. “Fuck me this time, John,” Scott breathed. Shepard groaned and pushed the younger man off him long enough for them to shimmy out of their pants, then their bodies were fitted together once more, the desperation each man felt at their individual situations spilling over into passion for one another. They stayed facing each other this time, and when they came together, they each called out the other's name.

 

Two pairs of blue eyes stayed fixed together for long moments as their breathing regulated and their heartbeats slowed. Finally, Shepard ducked his head, capturing the younger man's mouth for a languid kiss. “It's kind of a shame that I'll never see you again,” the Commander told him.

 

“Ah, well... that's what you get for involving yourself with the love 'em and leave 'em type, Commander.”

 

Shepard laughed and extricated himself from the man's embrace. “Never had a guy run to another galaxy to get away from me before, though.” They sat on the bed in awkward silence, until Scott slapped his knees and made to stand.

 

“I guess I should-”

 

“Stay, Scott,” Shepard said, gripping his hand. “Stay the night?” His blue eyes were almost pleading as they peered up at the younger man. Scott simply nodded, crawling under the covers and holding them open for Shepard to join him. John laid down and let himself be cradled in Ryder's arms.

 

Scott held him, waiting for his breathing to shift into that regular pattern that indicated he'd fallen asleep, but it didn't come. “You okay?”

 

Shepard gripped the younger man's forearms, pulling them tighter around himself. “Yeah... no... not really.”

 

“Want to talk about it?”

 

The Commander laughed softly. “Are you a therapist or something?”

 

“Just a good listener.”

 

“I just... the last few years have sucked pretty badly, and I,” he stopped and sighed deeply. “I don't know. I feel like an idiot telling you all this.”

 

It was finally Ryder's turn to laugh. “What have you got to lose? I'm leaving the galaxy tomorrow. Not like I can ruin your reputation.”

 

He felt the hitch of Shepard's laugh and the movement of his head shaking, then pressed his lips to the older man's shoulder. “It's just... I feel like I'm working my fucking ass off, and no one's taking me seriously. Everyone is in two camps. Those who believe in the 'legend' keep me on a fucking pedestal, just waiting for me to fall off. Those who've listened to what I've had to say the last few years think I'm a lovable nutcase or a delusional lunatic. There's no in between. Even people I...”

 

“Care about?” Scott asked when the silence stretched a little too far.

 

“Love,” John whispered.

 

“What's his name?”

 

Shepard hesitated for a long time. “Kaidan,” he said at length, voice ragged and broken. “He doesn't feel the same, so... Actually, he won't even speak to me right now.”

 

“Ahh,” Scott held him a little tighter. “Did something happen?”

 

“I died,” Shepard said flatly. “He thinks he can't trust me. We were never more than friends before, though I wanted to be. I guess... it was just never meant to be.”

 

“I'm sorry. That can't be easy.”

 

“Nothing's ever easy, Scott. Never. Life's a bitch and then you die. Isn't that how the saying goes?”

 

A pang of regret stabbed at the younger man's heart. There was no use getting attached. Not only was he leaving in the morning never to return, Shepard was in love with someone else. Their lives were never meant to travel the same path. He snuggled closer, breathing in the scent of the man – a hint of strong liquor and smoke with the underlying smell of sex and sweat. It was rather intoxicating, actually, and he used rubbing his cheek against the back of Shepard's shoulder as an excuse to inhale as much of the fragrance as he could, cementing it into his memory. He laid awake, arms wrapped tightly around the first human Spectre, long after John began snoring softly. He'd be asleep for a long time. Tonight, he'd just soak in as much of this as he could.

 

**

 

After another tumble and shared shower in the morning, they dressed in silence, stealing shy glances at one another. It always amazed Scott that two people who'd just spent hours engaging in the most intimate act possible could be so shy about dressing in front of each other come morning. He chuckled at the thought and looked up from tying his boots to find intense blue eyes boring into him. Shepard's face reddened, and he cleared his throat. “Thanks... for last night,” he said quietly. “I appreciate you listening.”

 

“Wait! Are you saying you didn't appreciate me sucking your dick? Because personally I thought that was one of my better moments.”

 

John laughed. “You're pretty adept, I'll give you that,” he admitted with a sly grin.

 

Scott noticed something clutched in the Commander's fist, and quirked an eyebrow at the man. Shepard cleared his throat again and opened his palm, revealing a set of dog tags. “My old ones. From before the attack on the Normandy. I don't have any use for them, but...”

 

“You told me you didn't have them anymore.”

 

Shepard shrugged. “I... lied. Sorry.”

 

Ryder huffed a laugh and removed his own dog tags. He had no use for his anymore either. Stepping closer to the Commander, he looped them around the older man's neck. “Don't forget me, John.”

 

“Never,” the man said, slipping his tags over Scott's head.

 

“I won't forget you either.”

 

Shepard gave him a small smile before cupping his cheek and bringing their lips together, letting the kiss linger. Scott pulled away reluctantly tracing the outline of Shepard's cheek and jaw before letting his hand fall away and heading for the door.

 

“Hey, Scott,” Shepard called after him, waiting until the younger man turned to face him before speaking. “Thanks for sucking my dick, too.” He winked, and Ryder laughed.

 

“My pleasure.”

 

 

**

 

“Wow! Looks like you had a good night last night,” Sara teased taking in the multiple hickeys on his neck and purplish lips. Scott simply grinned at her, not offering any information. “Anyone I know?”

 

Her brother shrugged her off. Alec Ryder gave his son a frown, then just shook his head as he turned his attention back to his work. Scott let himself be led to the examination table where everyone was receiving one last physical plus the injection of the drug cocktail needed to keep them alive and healthy while in cryo-stasis for the next six hundred years. Sara blinked in surprise when she saw the love bites marring her brother's skin. “Seriously? You're going to come in looking like that and not tell me _any_ thing?”

 

“Nope. Not telling you a damn thing.” Scott avoided the eyes of his medical examiner, who was practically glowing in embarrassment.

 

“You're no fun,” she said with a pout.

 

“Do you really want to know?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Still not telling.”

 

“Wait a minute... if you're not telling, that means it _is_ someone I know!”

 

“Or maybe, I just want to keep you guessing,” he teased. ANN was playing in the background, and when he heard Shepard's name, he asked for the volume to be turned up. The report was about Shepard's arrest, detailing the man's actions on the batarian colony of Aratoht and even going so far as to call him the “now-disgraced Spectre.”

 

“Oh my god,” Sara said, shocked. “I never would have guessed that of Commander Shepard.”

 

“Don't believe every fucking thing you hear on the news, Sara,” Scott snapped, tugging his shirt back over his head as he jumped down from the table, stalking away from his sister and her goddamned nosiness.

 

“Hey, no need to get pissy, Scotty,” she said, catching up to him. “What do you care what they say-” Sara stopped dead in her tracks. “No way.”

 

Scott kept going, and she ran to catch up again, grabbing his arm and spinning him to face her. His twin could always manage to pry his deepest, darkest secrets from him. Maybe that was because he wore his feelings on his goddamned shirt sleeve. His father had constantly warned him it was a weakness, while his mother had always praised him for his empathy, calling it a sign of strength. Right now it sure as hell felt like a disadvantage. He and Shepard had bonded last night. It wasn't the bond of eternal love or anything so ridiculous or romantic. If it had been, he wouldn't be here right now. It was just two lonely souls finding something they needed for the night in the arms of another. Still, it felt important to Scott, and he didn't want his twin making light of it.

 

“There's no way in fucking hell you slept with Commander Shepard last night,” she said, scowling with her hands on her hips.

 

“You said it,” he quipped, turning and resuming his path once more.

 

“You did, didn't you? Oh my god!”

 

“Real original, Sara. Can't you think of anything else to say?”

 

“How about, 'Holy shit, I can't believe you screwed Commander fucking Shepard!' instead?”

 

“Is there no one else you can harass right now?” He wasn't going to lie to her. Evasion. Evasion was his go to tactic when it came to dealing with his sister.

 

She started sing-songing, “Scotty and Shepard sittin' in a-”

 

“Can it, Sara, Jesus!” He whirled around to face her. “Yes, okay? Yes it was him, and it's none of your fucking business!”

 

“Hey,” she said more softly. “What gives? I've never seen you so worked up over a one night stand before.”

 

Scott heaved a sigh and wandered over to a crate, plopping himself down onto it. His sister sat beside him wrapping an arm around his back and propping her chin on his shoulder. “It was... different,” he said quietly. “Not love. I mean... there's no... We just... connected in a way that's never happened before. Hell, even if we weren't leaving in a few hours, he and I couldn't be together. It's a goddamned miracle that our paths happened to cross when they did... I don't know.. it's fucking complicated, alright?”

 

“I understand that,” she said, no hint of teasing in her voice.

 

“I think it was just something we both needed, and I appreciate that. He did too, I think.”

 

“I'm sure he did.”

 

“Anyway, I know how you love to tease, but... just let me have this, okay?”

 

“Anything you want, Scotty. You know that.”

 

“Thanks,” he said with a sheepish smile.

 

“Though, I'm not going to pretend I'm not a little jealous.”

 

Scott grinned. "You should be," he said, laughing when she punched him on the arm. "We'd better get back to work before dad comes looking for us.”

 

“How much you wanna bet I'll get boots on the ground first when we get to Andromeda?” Sara asked skipping away from him down the hall.

 

“How much you wanna bet I'll make it to the cryo-chamber before you?” he shouted as he raced past her.

 

A hint of fear settled in his chest as the stasis pod closed over his head. He gripped Shepard's tags in his fist, closed his eyes, imagined crystal blue eyes staring down at him, and smiled. Six hundred years was a long time to dream, but at least he had something worthwhile to dream about.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first attempt at writing Scott, and will probably be the first in a series of stories about him. I just adore the lovable little smartass! :) 
> 
> Find more of my silliness and obsession on tumblr: ellebeedarling.tumblr.com
> 
> Much love,   
> Elle


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